A Helping Hand, Part Ii.
(If you haven’t read “A Helping Hand, Pt. I” you can find it here.)
For the past three days, I’ve woken up at 5:30am. No reason. It was like a switch went off, and Boom. I’m up.
Usually I have a quiet time at 6:30am. Read the Bible, pray, read a devotional book, memorize scripture, etc. . So when I woke up an hour early, I just kinda shrugged my shoulders. “Okay, Lord. You want me to start early? Not a problem.” (Thankfully, Kyler’s in Colorado this week visiting grandparents, which means I only have to watch after Kaleb during the day. And Kaleb? He takes a lot of naps. So I was able to make up for my loss at a point later in the day.)
When I got an e-mail from Brandon, our LifeHouse leader, saying a new men’s group was meeting at 6:00am on Wednesday, my first thought was one of disgust. “What? Get up at an ungodly hour for fellowship? I don’t think so.” Then the bell inside my head rang. “Hey. Idiot. You’ve been waking up at 5:30am this week anyway. Ya think there’s a reason?”
Hmph. So I resisted dismissing the notion as the craziness that it was, and made a deal with myself. “Self,” I said. “If I wake up at 5:30am once again tomorrow, I’ll go to the group thing.” (Yes, I could hear my self chuckling softly in the background.)
Because at 5:30am the next day, I woke myself up. Or rather, my self woke me up. Whatever. I was awake. And disturbed. I had a hard time falling asleep the night before, and ended up snarfing down a bowl of Life cereal at midnight in the hopes that it would help knock me out. Instead, it helped blimp my butt and other hidden fat crevices.
Anyhow, I was awake. And confused. And warm and cozy in bed. So I chalked it up to coincidence and rolled over. And lay there. For 10 minutes. Wide awake. Then I stared at the ceiling for another 5. Finally I stopped trying to analyze WHY IN THE WORLD I WAS AWAKE AT 5:30 IN THE MORNING, fell out of bed and got dressed.
On the way to the group (meeting at a nearby IHOP), I prayed that God would accomplish whatever His will was that morning. I REALLY wanted to believe there was a profound reason for waking me up so early. Maybe I was supposed to be spiritually and profoundly ‘blessed” by what one of the other guys had to say. Or perhaps I was gonna bless someone else. Who knew? But I was open to whatever, so I committed it into His hands.
Nothing happened. The guys were great, the food was good, the conversation was uplifting and the like, but nothing profound or earth-shattering happened. I’m usually a quiet guy in a group anyway, but at 6:00am? I practically blended in with the wallpaper.
So we wrapped the group up, paid our bills and walked out, parting ways. As I’m getting into my car, I look across the parking lot to see a man approach Brandon’s truck. He talked for a few seconds, and Brandon handed him a few bills. As I kept staring, I suddenly realized why I was so transfixed. I recognized the guy talking to him.
It was the same guy I handed $20 to on Monday night.
So when Brandon was done talking and the guy was walking away, I waved him over to me. He trotted over with a grin on his face, which quickly fell into wide-eyed shock as he got closer.
“Heyyy,” he said nervously, “It’s you! How you doin’?”
“I’m good. How’re you?”
“I’m okay, man, I’m doing okay.”
“So, what do you need money for this time?”
“Ah, my wife. She needs her insulin, and we only need $6.00 more to pay for it.”
“Uh-huh.” I stared at him for a few seconds, a smirk forming across my face. “So, did you make it?”
“What?”
“To Huntsville. Did you actually go there?”
“Oh, yeah man. We went there…”
“And you’re already back?”
“Yeah, we’re back…”
“Hey, do you happen to have your driver’s license on you?”
He paused. “What?”
“Can I see your driver’s license?”
“My… oh, MAN! You don’t believe me!!”
“No, I don’t,” I said, smiling.
“You think I’m lying!”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Man….” he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. Then he shows me his license. The city? Huntsville, TX.
Yes, I was surprised. But still not finished with the conversation.
I looked up at him. “Do you believe in God?” I asked.
“Absolutely. I do believe in God.”
“And… you remember what I said? About the money I gave you?”
“Yes, sir, I do. An’ that money is a BLESSING, not a curse!” he said insistently.
“Good. Do you have a job?”
“What?”
“Do you have a job?”
“Yessir, I do. I’m a truck driver.”
“You’re a truck driver?”
“Well, I’m not working right now, but I start next week.”
“Uh-huh.”
At that point I let him know that I wasn’t going to give him anymore money, because I just didn’t believe he was telling me the truth. He accepted that, and was about to leave when I asked him his name.
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